Not in Cuba
by Ridley C. James
Summary: Missing Scene for Season 2 Episode 1: DIY or Die. Jack and Mac deal with the fallout from the car wreck in Cuba.


Not in Cuba…

By: Ridley C. James

A/N: Missing scene for Episode 2:1 DIY or Die. There could be a bit of a spoiler but not much since this takes place right after the opening sequence, and really has little to do with the plot of the episode. So, there was that whole car crash and plunge in Cuba that we didn't' get to see, and then we didn't know for sure how long after until the boys returned. This is just my muse's way of filling in that gap! Without giving anything away for those who haven't watched, I loved the season premier. The jury is still out on the new team member because I am a little worried she may mess with our boys' mojo, but I am trying to be positive. As always, thanks to my beta, Mary!

RcJ

"Breathe damn it!" Jack yelled over the waves crashing around him and his unconscious partner, furious that he was even having to issue such a command after everything else that had happened that day and even more incredulous that he was performing CPR on his best friend on a sparse outcropping of rocks no less.

Scanning Mac's far too still body and realizing the kid's chest was still not moving, Jack cursed again and gave another rescue breath. Mac still had a pulse but he wasn't pulling in air. Jack's mind flashed back to almost exactly a year before when a mission had also ended unexpectedly in the water, resulting in Jack also trying to resuscitate his partner. At least there was no bullet wound to contend with this time.

Jack had nearly lost his best friend then. Their teammate, Mac's so-called girlfriend, hadn't yet been revealed as a lying traitor. Her betrayal, or what she later swore was a deep cover assignment had not only gotten Mac shot but had broken his heart-which is why top secret mission or not Jack still hadn't forgiven Nikki, nor would he anytime soon. The fact she had also, albeit inadvertently to hear her tell it, brought the psychopath Murdoc into their lives wasn't lost on Jack considering Murdoc was who Jack blamed fully for this latest disaster.

Jack swore again as he was bathed by another blast of ocean spray, the saltwater stinging his eyes. There was a freaking reason he would never have joined the SEAL's. He leaned over Mac, hoping to block him from the surge of water, keeping a tight grip on his partner so they weren't washed off their rocky oasis. When the wave receded, Jack placed his hands on Mac's chest to check for the tell-tale rise and fall. He couldn't help but to think of the irony that Mac's heart was also worse for wear this time, the betrayal from his father older than Nikki's but deeper and harder to get past.

"Come on, kid. Don't do this to me." Jack prepared to offer another breath, when Mac suddenly convulsed, choking out a mouthful of water. Jack quickly rolled him on his side as his partner seemed to vomit his share of the Atlantic, Caribbean, and the other two bodies of water that Mac not so helpfully pointed out as surrounding the island when they had arrived. All Jack cared about was the fact that the liquid from whatever body of water they were in was now _outside_ his partner's body.

"Mac? You with me, bud?" Jack kept one hand on the back of Mac's head, holding it off the ground as his partner coughed and gagged. Near drowning was never fun, and it was a whole hell of lot messier than one ever saw on Baywatch. When Mac managed to groan a response, Jack gently lifted him by the shoulders, pulling him away from the mess before easing him back to the rocks. "Talk to me brother."

"I was right…" Mac's voice was low and raspy as he blinked, looking up at Jack.

"Right about what?" Jack ran a hand over the kid's wet hair, noting the trickle of blood that started somewhere under all the blond. It had traced a watery trail down Mac's face although his color was thankfully coming back, the bluish tent around his lips giving way to a healthier pallor.

"It did hurt." Mac grimaced, trying to push himself up on shaky arms, just as another wave smacked over them. Jack tried to block most of the impact, his fingers tightening on the rough surface of the rocks as the force nearly knocked them off their precarious perch.

"I don't call you a genius for nothing, brother." Jack sat back, wiping water from his face as he forced a grin. They were both lucky not to have been killed. The crash could have been a whole hell of a lot worse. "Playing Evil Kinevil has its drawbacks."

"Are you okay?" Mac asked, lifting his head to sweep a bleary glance over Jack. Another deep rattling cough shook his frame and Jack placed a hand on his shoulder to ground him as well as keeping him upright as water once more showered them.

"Never better." Jack glanced to the retaining wall a few feet behind them. As treacherous as the terrain, and although he'd given just about anything for a sandy beach, he was grateful for the bit of land he'd found.

"Are you sure?" Mac was staring at him now, the blood sluicing down his face more pronounced as well as the pained frown that furrowed his forehead.

"I'm good, Mac." Jack had enough time to jump clear of the bike as they went over, managing a somewhat graceful plunge in an area free of rocks. Mac had been caught in the car along with the driver, who may or may not have gone down with the ride. "If not having to pull your heavy unconscious ass out of the waves, then it might have been a refreshing relief from this godforsaken heat."

"The driver…" Mac asked, trying to sit up straighter.

"Not sure." Jack tried to pinpoint the best way to get Mac up and over to the wall. He'd have to scale it first then pull Mac up, because there was no way in Mac's condition would he manage hauling Jack up. He glanced at Mac. "But considering our unfriendly host told us Miguel was the one who hired him to ambush us and question us about Murdoc, I could really care less if he's currently fish food. Let's not forget he tried to shoot me. I really hate it when people try to shoot me."

"But he might have had information on Murdoc." Mac seemed to be searching the water behind Jack as if he might once more head in for a rescue.

"Yeah, well, I'm not jumping back in on the unlikely chance he'd tell us squat." Jack tightened his hold on Mac. "You're sure as hell not, so don't get any ideas. The only thing I'm concerned with is getting us off this damn rock and into some dry clothes."

Mac's only reply was another round of coughing and choking as a wave doused them with a deluge of water. Jack had officially had enough.

"Come on, kiddo." He made it to his feet, reaching out to lift Mac up beside him pulling his partner's arm over his shoulder before starting for the retaining wall. Jack didn't miss the kid's quick intake of breath, nor the way he flinched with each step or how his face went three shades paler. He glanced to the younger man. "You hurt your ribs?"

"I think I hit the dash or maybe caught the windshield when I tried to jump out as we went over." Mac cut his eyes to Jack, giving the older agent a knowing glance. "Nothing feels broken."

"So you're a doctor now?" Jack asked, easing Mac against the wall next to the tallest rock he'd spotted. After making sure his partner was steady enough to remain standing, Jack started scaling the outcropping. He slipped once, readjusting his grip before hefting himself up. He made easy work of making it onto the wall from there. Turning he leaned over the concrete pylon, offering his hands to Mac. "Come on, bud, Alley-oop."

"That's a basketball term, you know." Mac ground out as he was forced to jump to grip Jack's outstretched arms.

"I know," Jack huffed, his fingers grasping the kid' wrists. He pulled Mac up, not letting his best friend go until he was once more on solid ground and looking somewhat steady. Whatever color Mac had gained, had once more vanished. He was pale and shaky. "Jackie Moon invented it after a conversation with his dead mother. I freaking love Will Ferrell in that movie."

"No, _Bozer_." Mac frowned at Jack for obviously confusing a cinematic reference for real life events. Jack flashed his partner a grin as Mac leaned over to rest his hands on his knees. He coughed a few more times, holding his side. When Jack put a hand on his back, Mac glanced up at him again. "That would be the Tucker brothers from Oklahoma Baptist University."

"Maybe, know it all." Jack gripped Mac's arm, helping him upright once more. His frustration at the fact Mac was hurting and that they needed to get moving took some of the teasing out of his voice. He wished to hell they could do a medical run, but there were too many ears and eyes in Havanna, as obvious by their recent capture and subsequent interrogation session. Jack would not risk them falling into enemy hands again, so he worked to lighten his tone as he started them in the direction of their hotel which thankfully wasn't far away. "There are those who credit David Thompson from NC State."

"Are you sure you didn't hit your head?" Mac snorted. "Or was it all those punches you took for me."

The last part was asked in a quiet voice, lacking the earlier hint of sarcasm that had actually made Jack feel a little better about the kid's condition. "You know my head's as hard as they come, and it wasn't my fault that _Mr. Punches Like a Girl_ took offense to my accent."

Mac didn't respond and Jack chalked up his partner's lack of rebuttal as one part exhaustion and one part Mac being _Mac_ and over-processing what he saw as Jack's propensity to willingly put himself in harm's way to keep Mac from being hurt. Jack on the other hand, picked up the slack in the conversation as they moved along, rattling on about the lunacy of building roads right over the damn ocean and Mac's use of grappling hooks without consulting Jack first. Talking was Jack's way of dealing with what he saw, despite his partner's likely belief to the contrary, as his continual failure to do one damn bit of good in protecting the kid. Mac's desire to rush headlong into things in the name of his 'improvising' made keeping one step ahead of his partner nearly impossible which was never more evident as they reached their hole in the wall hotel and found the door to their room open.

"Mac, wait!" Jack hissed as Mac barreled head long into the room without waiting for Jack to enter first. Albeit Jack didn't have a weapon on him, he could have at least gone first, as not only the one more experienced in hand to hand, but also more with it since he hadn't just bashed his body in a car wreck and nearly drowned. Jack quickly surmised the reason for his best friend's surge of adrenaline and episode of recklessness when he entered their trashed room and saw that Mac had instantly made a beeline for his bed. "That damn watch," Jack growled under his breath.

Mac was on his knees, hands buried under the mattress before Jack could even clear the bathroom and the one tiny closet to be sure their intruders were gone.

"It's still here." Mac breathed, pulling his father's watch from where he'd hidden it that morning before they headed out. It wasn't like the timepiece was a Rolex, but in the days since Mac recovered it from Patagonia it had become priceless to the kid and it really didn't pay to risk anything of value while walking the streets of Cuba.

"Let's hope the same can be said for my guns," Jack muttered. It was also not wise to carry noticeable weapons in Cuba in case of a run in with authorities, although Jack had wished he'd had his back-up- back-up when they were grabbed from the bar and the men who'd ambushed them managed to take his small caliber pistol and the tactical blade from his boot. He made his way over to the vent, pulling it loose from the wall, letting out a sigh of relief when he found both his pieces safe and sound. He took them both, sliding one at the back of his waist band as he held onto the other just in case as he once more made a sweep of their quarters. "Thank goodness they were more into bull in the china shop ransacking than the fine tooth comb kind of searches we do."

"I don't think they took anything," Mac said hoarsely from the seat he'd taken on the bed. "They must have been looking for anything that might have connected us to Murdoc."

"So much for hotel security," Jack sighed, taking in the state of their supplies. The few clothes they had brought and food they'd picked up the night before was scattered about.

"I told you the pidly pesos you slipped that kid at the front desk wasn't going to keep him from telling anyone about the two Americans staying here." Mac carefully stood up, swaying a bit before managing to straighten himself, albeit still a little hunched over to protect his ribs. Jack noticed his father's watch was gripped tightly in his hand.

"There's nothing we can do it about it now." Jack bent down, gathering the strewn remnants of the military grade first aid kit they'd brought. He wasn't surprised to see that the pain killers were gone, but was pretty sure he'd stashed a few away in his go bag for emergencies. Jack glanced at Mac. "What I can take care of is your head, and check out your ribs."

"I'm…" Mac started.

"That wasn't a suggestion, brother." Jack's voice was rougher than he intended, but he was more than pissed. For weeks he'd felt like they were chasing their tails, hitting one dead end after another in their search for Mac's father, and now they were failing miserably at locating Murdoc. Mac being hurt was just the really rotten cherry on top. He met his partner's gaze, softening his tone. "I need to know you're okay."

"Fine." Mac relented, although not happily. "But I'm taking a shower first."

"I'll try to find your clothes." Jack gestured to the room and then ran a hand over his hair. He recognized a gauntlet when it was thrown, and the useless battle of wills that would ensue if Jack dared to take the challenge head on. Considering Mac had spent most of the morning stripped of any control and tied to a chair, Jack was willing to relent. Besides sometimes it was easier to give the kid enough rope to hang himself. He'd hit the proverbial wall soon and when he did Jack would be there. "Just don't lock the door."

Jack had managed to straighten most of the mess and gather their things before he heard the water shut off. The lock on their door was splintered, busted beyond repair so Jack had slid the lone dresser in front of the entrance, knowing if nothing it would keep someone from walking in without them hearing them. He'd gotten lucky and found some salvageable crackers and a few bottles of water, which he sat on the nightstand between his and Mac's bed. When Mac didn't come out of the bathroom after a few minutes Jack walked to the door, bearing the kid's clothes. He rapped his knuckles against the wood, trying to fight back the fear that was niggling at him when Mac didn't respond.

"Mac? You okay?" Jack didn't wait for a reply this time, opening the door to stick his head in. Mac was sitting on the edge of the tub, towel tied around his waist, his head resting in his hands. "I'll take that as a no," Jack said, making his way over to the younger agent. He tossed the kid's shirt and pants on the sink.

Mac didn't bother to look up when Jack closed the lid on the toilet and took a seat on it so he was directly in front of the kid, their knees bumping together in the tight space. "You sick, bud or hurtin'?"

"Some of the first," Mac finally answered, voice low. "More of the latter."

"How about you lift your head for me a minute?"

When Mac did Jack easily read the misery in his partner's blue eyes. "Jack."

"At least you know my name." Jack flashed a grin, reaching out to tilt Mac's chin up a little so he could get a better look at the kid's face in the poor lighting. Mac's pupils were definitely dilated, but not uneven. All traces of blood had been washed away from Mac's face, but the bruises from the punches he'd taken earlier were starting to make themselves known. It made Jack wish he'd given that cowboy more than a good head butt. "How about you tell me yours?"

The kid's instant scowl was almost comical. "You know my name."

"Yes I do, but I wasn't the one who banged his head in a death defying jump and then nearly drowned in the Atlantic." Jack wrapped his hand around Mac's wrist and gave a slight squeeze. "How about you just humor me my over cautious nature where your health is concerned, huh?"

"This area is probably more Caribbean Sea than…" Mac started, his voice raspy.

"Right." Jack rolled his eyes at the correction. "Start by telling me what hurts the most."

"My head." Mac reached up and rubbed at his temple. "I keep losing my train of thought."

"That's not surprising." What was surprising was the kid admitting to any pain. Jack released his hold on Mac, standing so he could see the top of his partner's head. He pushed some hair away from the over Mac's left temple, finding the cut he'd noticed earlier. "You've got a good lump up here, not to mention a gash, which luckily doesn't look like it will need any stitches."

"Oh."

"Oh?" Jack reclaimed his seat before Mac once more, his best friend's lack of a reply revving up his worry. Maybe he should have taken a chance on the hospital run. Jack caught his partner's eye, holding up a hand. "How many fingers am I holding up, bud?"

"Three," Mac snapped annoyed, pushing Jack's hand out of his face. "My name is Angus and we're in Havanna, Cuba. Are you satisfied?"

"What's the square root of Pi?"

"What?" Mac's brow wrinkled, one arm moving protectively over his side. "Pi is irrational, which means any elucidation would be conjecture at best. I can give you an approximation if you want, which would be one point…"

"No, no," Jack brought a hand up to cut his partner off. "Since I have no idea what you're talking about, I'm guessing your ginormous brain wasn't sloshed around too badly and you only went without oxygen long enough to give me a few more gray hairs and not to cause any lasting damage."

"Thanks for that by the way." Mac held Jack's gaze for a moment, appearing much more lucid than seconds before. "The whole not letting me die thing."

"It's kind of in the job description. Besides it's not like Matty's going to dig me up a new partner." Jack winked at the kid before moving his attention to his best friend's torso. Mac was still shirtless and it was more than painfully obvious that he was correct about clipping the windshield. The skin over his ribs was red and swollen, hot when Jack touched it. "How about abdominal pain?"

"I told you they weren't broken." Mac winced, jerking even under Jack's careful ministration. His face growing paler.

"That's good, but I was thinking about all the things that near drowning does to a guy." Jack lifted his gaze long enough to meet Mac's once more. He'd memorized the list last year when Mac had stayed at his place after the whole Nikki incident. Secondary drowning was always a real threat. A person could literally drown on dry land and with Mac's luck and propensity for trouble, his odds were probably somehow marginally increased to have his lungs fill with fluid without Jack's knowledge. Although Mac didn't seem to have any shortness of breath or a fever currently, signs of lethargy and moodiness gave Jack enough grounds for concern. His coughing had slacked off, but his energy was definitely waning.

"My stomach doesn't hurt, and my breathing is fine." Mac made a point of sitting up straighter, stifling the round of coughing it brought on. "I'm not going to dry drown or develop pneumonia on your watch," he added, unconvincingly as if he could read the older agent's thoughts. "Really, Jack, I'm good,"

Jack gave a weary sigh, picking up the clothes he'd placed on the sink. He handed them to Mac with a raised brow. "Good enough to manage these on your own?"

Mac nodded. "If not, I'll let you know."

"Then I'll meet you outside to take care of the head wound." Jack, stood, gesturing to the door. "I even found some pain meds that our room wreckers didn't discover." When Mac didn't offer an outright refusal, Jack laid a hand on top of his damp hair reclaiming his attention. "You with me, bud?"

Mac looked up and blinked. "I hear you, Jack."

"Good." Jack let his hand fall away. He stepped outside the door closing it behind him, but stayed close hovering until the door knob turned. By the time Mac had shuffled out, Jack was waiting by the bed.

"Did you check in with Matty?" Mac asked as he lowered himself to the mattress with a suppressed groan.

"Do you not remember our friend with the nasty right hook smashing both our phones?" Jack asked with a frown as he took a seat on the bed beside Mac. "I figure we'll find a hotspot with something that passes for a computer tomorrow and get in touch with Riley."

"We can go tonight." Mac offered around a yawn, relaxing more into the pillow.

"I'm not keen on running around Havanna in the dark, especially since we don't know who else is hoping to chat with us." Jack was also not good with leaving until he was sure Mac had a chance to recover from their more than eventful day. "Might as well crash here another night or two since I'm pretty sure we're not getting the damage deposit back."

Mac rolled his eyes at the joke, but didn't offer any resistance when Jack shifted closer to treat the cut on his head. He stared down at his hands, specifically the watch which he was now wearing. He cleared his throat, his voice scratchy. "Do you think Matty will want us to head back to Phoenix?"

"I'm thinking we could check a few more leads, but if nothing turns, I'm guessing she may have us head back to the ranch unless Riley is able to dig up anything else." Jack used an antiseptic wipe to clean the gash. The placement of the wound and Mac's hair made it impossible for a bandage so he settled for covering it with antibiotic cream. By the time he'd finished Mac was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

Jack tossed the kit on his bed, and took the bottle of water and pills from the nightstand. "Here, brother," he handed them to Mac.

Mac took the pills and swallowed them, refusing the water. "I've had enough of that today."

"Not the same thing and you know it." Jack pushed the bottle towards his best friend again. "You need to keep your electrolytes balanced."

"Now who thinks he's a doctor?" Mac accused, but took the water and drank half of it before offering the bottle back to Jack.

"If you're not satisfied with my quality of care we can always stop in and see Sally when we get back home." Jack wasn't sure that was such a bad idea now that he had threatened it. He watched as Mac carefully lowered himself back against the pillow, one arm tucked protectively over his side as he did so.

"Should I call you Nurse Dalton?" Mac met Jack's gaze, a slight grin twitching around his mouth.

Jack snorted. "Only if you want me to kick your ass."

"Like that's ever going to happen."

"Maybe not, but as long as you know it _could_ happen if you ever pushed me hard enough."

"Says the guy who took a beating just so I wouldn't have to." Mac lifted a hand to gesture to the bruises on Jack's face. "I think I'm safe."

"I told you I was buying us time for you to figure a way out of there," Jack argued, although he knew Mac wasn't buying his macho line of bull.

"Why do you think Murdoc wanted us questioned?" Mac's frown deepened. "Do you think he's still in Cuba?"

"Why the hell does Murdoc do anything he does, kid?" Jack ran a hand over his face. "As much as I hate to admit it, he's probably long gone."

"It's like chasing smoke." Mac looked down at his watch once more. "I don't know who's harder to track down, an international terrorist or my dad."

"If your old man is half is smart as you, then my money is unfortunately on him. I'll buy Murdoc as devious and maniacle but not brilliant." Jack reached up and gently nudged his partner to lie down. He waited for Mac to stretch out on his side before pulling a blanket from the bottom of the bed and covering him. "But in the end, I'm always going to back you to outsmart them both."

"You don't know how gifted my dad is," Mac remarked softly. "He's the reason I am the way I am."

"Oh, I get that he's to blame for a lot of things." Jack kept his tone light although he wasn't only giving Mac's father credit for the good attributes he'd instilled in Mac, but suggesting he held him accountable for the gaping wounds he'd left as well. Jack might want Mac to forgive his old man for his own well-being, but he didn't really plan on sitting back and letting the senior MacGyver reap any benefits from Mac's benevolence. He waited for Mac to look at him. "And I don't need to know how sharp he might be, because I already know how smart you are."

"A lot of good it's done me." Mac brought a hand to his temple, wincing. "So far, I've gotten us nowhere."

"Not true." Jack folded his arms over his chest. "You've gotten us from Kiev to Patagonia and now to Cuba." Jack reached out and gripped Mac's wrist with the watch, turning it so Mac could see the face. "You also have the first solid piece of evidence of your father's whereabouts that you've had in years."

"He wouldn't have left this without a reason." Mac traced his fingers over the watch's stem before his weary blue gaze found Jack's. "Do you think he knows I'm looking for him?"

That was the thousand dollar question that had begun to plague Jack since Mac showed him the letter on Cairo Day, before Murdoc and Dr. Zito had rained hell down at Phoenix. In the back of his mind Jack couldn't help to wonder if the timing of him goading Mac into writing his father and Murdoc making his first appearance in their lives was mere coincidence. If he let his thoughts go to a very dark place, he couldn't help but to worry if it wasn't Nikki's betrayal that had put Mac in the line of fire, but Jack's pushing Mac to mend fences with his dad.

"Jack?"

Mac's tired voice had Jack coming back to the present. Valid worry or not, Jack sure as hell wasn't going to postulate his concerns out loud and give the kid anything else to bounce around in his giant head. He grinned at Mac. "No matter how I elucidate on that, kiddo, it's going to be complete approximation on my part."

"Funny." Mac rolled his eyes at Jack tossing his words from earlier back at him.

"So what do you say we skip the transcendental spiel and get some sleep?" Jack ran a hand over Mac's hair, earning him a menacing glower, which he returned with another grin before getting up from the bed. "I'll take first watch."

"You'll wake me in a few hours?" Mac yawned, his eyes already to half-mast.

Jack grabbed his gun from the nightstand, giving his partner a nod. "You bet."

Mac flashed him a somewhat doubtful glance, opening his mouth as if to offer an argument, but then seemed to reconsider at the last minute, choosing to merely close his eyes and give into his apparent exhaustion. Maybe he recognized a useless battle when he saw one as well as Jack did. And useless it was because Jack had no plans of standing down from his post anytime soon. He'd already almost lost Mac once and he'd be damned if he'd let one more person have a chance at hurting the kid on his watch. Not in Cuba…not any damn place. That vow went for Murdoc and double for one James MacGyver.

The end…until episode 2.

PS...My beta Mary so wanted me to continue this story, but I really need to finish For Family, so if anyone wants to add on from here, keeping the boys in Cuba a little longer, dealing with Mac's issues, feeding our hurt/comfort frenzy feel free! Kelcor? Sabby? Poxelda? Tinkerbella? Anyone? lol


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